


Just Once

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bratty Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing, Stripper Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23555590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “Did you literally just imply that while you were living in New York, you spent your weekends as a stripper?”“No,” Derek said, his spoon clacking loudly against the bottom of his bowl when he started mixing his chili with the cheese he still had.“No you didn’t imply it, or no you didn’t spend your weekends as a stripper?” Stiles asked. “You need to clarify here, because that wasn’t at all clear, and there is an important distinction because inquiring minds need to know. And by inquiring minds, I mean me, my mind, I need to know.”“Your dinner’s gonna get cold,” Derek said again. As if Stiles had any plans to eat his dinner right now with the prospect of Derek as a stripper.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667605
Comments: 24
Kudos: 800





	Just Once

Stiles sat across from Derek, his chili sitting forgotten in the bowl in front of him, both hands held together as if in prayer and pressed against his lips. Derek was resolutely looking down into his own bowl, moving some shredded cheese around to try and melt it a bit in the hot food, chewing on his last bite while seeming to pretend Stiles wasn’t even there. 

It was like he was secretly hoping Stiles hadn’t actually heard him. Like the words hadn’t actually escaped his mouth for him to hear. Like he hadn’t said _anything_ at all, sitting there all pretending to be innocent when Stiles now knew he was _anything but_! 

Stiles inhaled deeply through his nose, then exhaled through his parted lips, moving his hands away so he could rest them both flat on the table on either side of his dinner. “I’m sorry,” Stiles said, trying to keep his tone even. “Could you repeat that for me?” 

“Your dinner’s gonna get cold,” Derek said simply, moving more cheese around before reaching out for the bowl in the middle of the table to grab some more. 

Stiles snatched the bowl away when Derek had just about reached it, setting it aside so he could force his boyfriend to pay attention to him. Derek’s hand hovered in mid-air for a moment, and then lowered to the table, eyes still on his food. 

“Derek,” Stiles said, feeling his heartrate increase. He knew Derek could hear it. Fuck, he was positive Derek was wishing it _wouldn’t_ be increasing but hot _damn_ if Stiles wasn’t so fucking turned on right now. “Did you literally just imply that while you were living in New York, you spent your weekends as a stripper?” 

“No,” Derek said, his spoon clacking loudly against the bottom of his bowl when he started mixing his chili with the cheese he still had. 

“No you didn’t imply it, or no you didn’t spend your weekends as a stripper?” Stiles asked. “You need to clarify here, because that wasn’t at all clear, and there is an important distinction because inquiring minds need to know. And by inquiring minds, I mean me, my mind, I need to know.” 

“Your dinner’s gonna get cold,” Derek said again. As if Stiles had any plans to eat his dinner right now with the prospect of Derek as a stripper. It was probably one of his top five fantasies from before they were dating, if he was honest. Derek stripping all sexily and giving Stiles a lap dance. 

“Oh my God, did you give people lap dances?!” Stiles demanded, slapping both hands on the table. “Derek, did you? Are you good at lap dances? You know my birthday is coming up, and not gonna lie, I’d die happy if you gave me a lap dance.” 

Derek let out a long, aggrieved sigh, staring at the ceiling while letting his spoon clink against the side of his bowl. Evidently, now that the cat was out of the bag, he realized there was no way to get Stiles to drop this. 

Smart, really. He knew Stiles well. Stiles was like a dog with a bone, and this bone was definitely one he was going to chew until he lost all his teeth because _oh my God_! 

“You’re not gonna drop this,” Derek said. A statement, not a question. 

“You can’t just _say_ things like that and expect me _not_ to immediately ask a bazillion questions! Wouldn’t you if our roles were reversed?!” Stiles demanded.

“No, I’d know you weren’t serious, you can barely walk without tripping over your own two feet, imagining you as a stripper would only end in disaster.” 

Stiles pointed a finger at him. “Mean, but accurate. Don’t try and change the subject.” 

“You brought it up,” Derek reminded him. “I just went with it.” 

“Derek!” Stiles slammed both hands loudly on the table again. “Stop changing the subject! Explain!” 

Derek stared at him for a few seconds, then calmly took another bite of his chili without breaking eye contact. Stiles started fidgeting relatively quickly, but he wouldn’t be deterred! He wouldn’t! He kept eye contact with the big, scary Alpha Werewolf and waited him out. 

Surprisingly, Derek _did_ break first, which was unusual. Stiles figured he just really wanted the cheese back. 

“It was only a few months, right before I moved back to Beacon Hills. It kind of started out as a joke with some friends, seeing if I could trick my way into a strip club. Turns out I could, I’ve always looked older than my age.”

“You do look mature for your age,” Stiles agreed, ignoring the look that earned him. 

“Anyway, I don’t even remember how it happened, but somehow I ended up on stage with one of the strippers and the owner saw us. He said I had good moves and great bone structure and offered me a gig twice a week. Apparently he’d had some complaints about lack of male strippers in his establishment so this worked out for him. It paid well, and I didn’t have anything better to do, so I went for it. I think I worked there for maybe three and a half months before Laura came back here and I followed her.” 

“Do a strip tease,” Stiles ordered immediately, grabbing for his phone in his pocket and trying to think of the best music. For some reason he could only think of really dumb ones, like _Numa Numa_ , but thus was his brain. 

“No,” Derek said, calmly taking another bite of his chili before half-standing and reaching across the table to get the cheese back. 

Stiles grabbed the bowl and set it in his lap. “Derek!” 

“Stiles,” he replied evenly. 

“It’s my birthday!” 

“No it isn’t.” 

“It will be soon!” Stiles placed his free hand on the table, leaning closer to Derek. He still had the phone in his other hand and the cheese in his lap. “Please.” 

“No.” 

“ _Please_!” 

“Still no.” 

“But _why_?” Stiles whined, almost dropping the cheese. He put it back on the table dejectedly to avoid having a mess to clean up and Derek snatched the bowl back, sprinkling a generous amount onto his chili before returning to eating. 

Stiles sat there pouting, his dreams of Derek slowly taking his clothes off to sensual music shattering. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and went back to his chili.

It was cold. Derek had been right. 

He mixed it up a bit, finding only the top had cooled while the rest had remained relatively warm. Luke-warm chili. Why not? His night was already ruined, might as well ruin dinner, too. 

Derek let out a huge exhale, then leaned closer. Stiles obediently looked up, chewing sadly, crushing the food between his teeth just like his _crushed dreams_. 

He frowned when Derek held up one finger, eyes flashing red briefly while they stared at one another. 

“Once,” Derek informed him. “Just once.” 

Stiles blinked, and then straightened instantly. “Oh my God! Oh my _God_ , really?!” 

“Once,” Derek repeated. “On your birthday, before bed. That’s it.” 

“Yes!” Stiles thrust both hands in the air. One was still holding his spoon, which still had chili on it, so he got meat and tomatoes on his head, but he didn’t care. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you!” He scrambled out of his seat, still holding the spoon, and raced around the table to throw his arms around Derek’s neck from the side, hugging him tightly while kissing his cheek repeatedly. 

Derek rolled his eyes in response. “Why do I put up with you?” 

“Because you love me.”

“If nothing else, maybe promising more strip teases will be a good bribe,” Derek said thoughtfully. 

“Only if you’re good at it,” Stiles teased, rubbing his cheek against Derek’s, very much like his boyfriend often did to him when he scented him. 

“Are you implying I won’t be good?” Derek asked, offended. 

“Guess we’ll find out.” Stiles kissed his cheek again. 

He had absolutely _no doubts_ that Derek was going to make a phenomenal stripper. 

And now he was trying to think of what bratty things he could do that would have Derek trying to bribe him with more strip teases. 

His next few wank sessions were going to be _amazing_. 

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis 
> 
> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).


End file.
